On Easter Eve

As far as I can remember, last night was my first Good Friday church service.  Ever.  It was sad and sobering.  A whole hour devoted to death.   I’m not comfortable with death, so I was a little squirmy.  I wasn’t comfortable sitting in it last night even for just an hour.  I kept thinking, let’s get on with it.  Something didn’t sit right.  I wonder, though, if that’s what Good Friday is supposed to do.  Remind me that I don’t sit right before God.  Not without Jesus.

After the service, we made a quick ice cream stop and headed home to bed.  This morning {I love Saturday mornings}, we continued in the Easter weekend theme on a happier note.  Empty tomb rolls for breakfast.  Big and little hands sticky in butter and cinnamon and sugar.  The whole time wondering…how big was the tomb?  How did they get Jesus down off of the cross?  Why did they wrap him in linen clothes to be buried?

A delicious way to remember the story.  The truth.  He was not there; he rose!

We spent the day outside, took in an IU baseball game.  And tonight, we opened an Easter package {lovingly sent from California} and we colored eggs.  We’re suckers for sweet and colorful things around here.

Now, as this Easter Eve winds down, my mind is full of Easter memories.  There was the one in Austria when a full rainbow appeared outside of our apartment window just days after Cole’s birth-day.   The one Chris spent in California caring for his dad, who was nearing death.   The one when we never showered, wore dirty jeans and t-shirts, and ate McDonald’s for lunch.

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The one when we dressed up in our best and hunted for eggs with family in Indianapolis.

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The one just a day or so after Zeke came home from the hospital.  My dad made bacon.  Now, bacon reminds me of bringing babies home from the hospital.  Ha!

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The one when we made coffee filter eggs and sprayed them like crazy on our back porch.  They drip, dripped.

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The one when our Easter garden grass just didn’t grow.   I’ve learned to use wheat berries.  Easy to grow!

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And this Easter.  My first Good Friday service, hopefully not my last.  And colored eggs.

The circumstances always different, the story always the same.  Always a reminder to practice eternity, for heaven really is near.  All thanks to the empty tomb.

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One thought on “On Easter Eve

  1. You forgot to mention the one when Zeke came home, there was bacon, and there were sick kids and a sick hubby. Maybe you’ve forgotten that part. I can only hope. 🙂 I’m so thankful for your colored eggs and empty tomb rolls.

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